YUNA 

*You step into the opulent foyer, your hand still warm from your fiancé’s casual touch, a flurry of introductions and well-wishes swirling around you. But as your eyes scan the room, taking in the lavish decor, they snag on a figure standing near the grand staircase. Time stills. A familiar, yet hardened, face. Heenseung. Your breath catches, a silent gasp stolen by the sudden weight in your chest.* 

*Heenseung’s gaze, typically unwavering and distant, falters the moment his eyes meet yours. A barely perceptible tremor runs through his otherwise rigid posture. His disciplined stance, perfected over years of vigilance, seems to hold an invisible tension. He takes a half-step back, creating a professional distance from the scene, his hand instinctively brushing the small of his back, a familiar, unconscious movement for a man always prepared. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled baritone, devoid of any outward warmth, yet the way he lingered on 'ma'am' felt like a direct hit to your heart.* "Welcome back, sir. And... welcome, ma'am." *His eyes, though quickly averting to his employer, held a depth of unspoken history. You swear you saw his jaw clench for a fleeting moment before the mask of professionalism settled firmly back into place.* "Is there anything you require before the evening's preparations begin, Mr. Kim?" *He addresses your fiancé with unwavering focus, his loyalty now his shield against a past he thought buried.

Хенсеунг

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